False Impressions
by Jellico
Summary: AU/Prequel : Did 15yo Heath run away from home then reconsider? Where has he been for the last three days? Upon his return, an argument with Nick turns into a heartfelt discussion, and the brothers soon learn just what they mean to each other. Brother Jarrod also makes an appearance.


Nick didn't even try to contain himself once he learned that the middle child of the Barkley clan was finally back home and safe. A minute before, he'd trudged into the house dusty, saddle-sore and more worried than he'd ever dreamed he could be in his twenty-one years on this earth, especially about this new sibling of his, but not anymore was he worried. Now that his parents had informed him where his missing younger brother had been these past three days, Nick was furious!

True to form, he clenched his fists the second he heard the news, then spun on his heel, crossed the vestibule and stomped up the curving staircase. On the landing, he charged straight down the hall to the bedroom directly across from his own and flung the door open. Inside, fifteen-year-old Heath was practically bare, his white cotton night-shirt twisted and confused about his ears, but Nick didn't notice. As Heath struggled to pop a button so he could clear his head and yank his shirt downwards in case it was Little Sister Audra or his new step-mother Victoria who had just entered without knocking, Nick slammed the door behind him, stalked across the room, then poked his teenaged brother hard in the chest.

_"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING STEALING FATHER'S NEW HORSE TO GO JOY-RIDING?"_

"I wasn't stealing it, Nick." Heath's voice was muffled at first, but finally, he managed to clear his head and cover himself decently. His face was red, both from embarrassment at being exposed and also from nervousness at the way this volatile sibling of his was always crowding him, but still, he refused to step back. "I would never steal," he said again a little louder. "I'm not a thief."

Nick jabbed him again, harder than before_. "THEN WHAT THE DEVIL WERE YOU DOING?"_

Heath stood tall and worked his jaw a moment, his blue eyes narrowing. To his parents downstairs, he hadn't elaborated on his motives for taking the Arabian thoroughbred without permission, but no way was he going to stand here and have one of his brothers think of him as some kind of lowdown, cheating bandit. "I was borrowing it," he explained tightly. "It's the fastest horse on the ranch and I needed it for something private."

_"LIKE WHAT? WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY NEED TO DO IN SUCH AN ALL-FIRE HURRY?"_

As Nick let loose with another sharp jab, Heath felt his own temper really starting to surge now. He poked his older brother right back, letting him know he'd taken just about all he was gonna. "I needed to ride to Strawberry, if you gotta know!"

This time Nick gave him a shove, sending him sprawling onto the bed. _"I ALREADY KNOW YOU WENT TO STRAWBERRY, BUT WHY? WHAT'S OVER THERE THAT YOU CAN'T GET HERE? YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO FORGET IT, REMEMBER? YOU LIVE IN STOCKTON NOW, NOT SOME DEAD, NO-ACCOUNT SPECK ON A MAP!"_

For a moment, Nick thought he was in for a brawl, but then suddenly, Heath seemed to deflate. Instead of launching himself at Nick like he'd done countless times before whenever his roots were insulted, the reticent teenager sat up quietly and squeezed his hands beneath his thighs, his shoulders hunched as he fixed his gaze on his bare feet.

"That 'dead, no account speck on a map' is my momma's final resting place, Nick – hers and Aunt Rachel's – and that's not something I can forget. It may not be much to you, but it means a lot to me. Also ... also ..."

"Also what?" Nick grumbled. "Tell me, will you? I hate suspense."

Nick felt like a first-class snake and waited for the boy in front of him to call him one, but Heath didn't do anything of the kind. He didn't even glance up.

"Also I've been having dreams about Hannah," he confessed instead, his voice low. "I just ... I wanted ... I reckon I needed to be sure she was all right."

"Oh." Nick crossed his arms then uncrossed them again just as quickly. After going back and forth a few more times, he finally settled on keeping them loose while he plopped down beside his middle brother. "Well, you must have seen her lots since you were gone long enough. _Is_ she all right?"

Heath was surprised Nick cared enough to ask but nodded quietly. "Yeah. I don't know why I kept dreamin' about her like I was. I was plumb sure she was hurt."

"You've known her your whole life. You just miss her is all."

"Yeah ... maybe."

Nick said nothing to that, but then cleared his throat gruffly after a moment. "You know, this ranch takes up a lot of a man's time. Close to fourteen hours a day seven days a week."

"I know, Nick."

"Father doesn't have time to just drop everything whenever you're feeling homesick."

Heath glared at his older brother then, his lower jaw pushed forward. "I said I reckon I know that, Nicholas. And I've never asked him to neither. Not once."

Nick stared back at him hard. "No, you never ask anybody for anything around here and that's wrong. I'm sick of it."

"What?"

"I'm saying you should've asked me."

For nearly a full minute silence reigned. Finally, Heath swallowed. "You?"

"Yeah, me. I'm your big brother, aren't I? Jarrod's in San Francisco a lot of the time, but I'm here. Practically every day I'm here. Why didn't you come to me?"

"Well, I just ... "

"You just what?"

"I just ..." Heath looked away and stiffened. "I just figured you hated me."

"Well, I don't," Nick retorted. "Maybe I did hate you some in the beginning," he admitted, feeling his face begin to flush, "but that was nearly six months ago when you first got here. I haven't hated your sorry hide for a long time now."

"I didn't know that."

"Well, you do now. Point of fact, I even like you most of the time 'cause you're tough and you work hard and you learn easy too. You don't follow me around or pester me like Gene, and even though you could talk more, it's better'n the opposite since I don't exactly cotton to having another chatterbox around the place like Audra." Nick paused then elbowed him in the side. "I guess what I'm saying is, if Father absolutely _had_ to spring another Barkley kid on me ... well ... I reckon you'll do fine."

Heath was glad to hear it but he was also annoyed too. He turned to his brother, his brow furrowing in frustration. "You could show it once in a while, Nick. If I'd a known ... well, we ain't gotten along so much as half a day since I moved in, I just naturally figured you wouldn't want to help me."

"Well, like I said you figured wrong."

"Why're you so hard on me all the time then?"

Nick sized him up without apology. "'Cause you can take it that's why. Someday, you and me are gonna be running this ranch together, Heath, and I need someone I can count on, someone who isn't gonna crumble under pressure. I expect that person to be you. Hell, now that we're finally talking instead of fighting, I'm kinda looking forward to it!"

As Nick suddenly grinned at him, the first genuine smile he'd directed his way since they'd first been introduced last fall, Heath knew right then and there he would forgive this brother anything. He shot him a crooked grin of his own and felt his muscles relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever. "Thanks for sayin' so, Nick."

"Ain't no thanks needed." Nick tousled Heath's hair then stood up, sobering instantly as he got to his feet and truly noticed what the youth was wearing. At this hour of day, there was only one reason for a Barkley son to be dressed this way, and thanks to his infamous temper, both Nick and his backside were well acquainted with that reason.

"I'm gonna go talk to Father about this," he said, gesturing angrily at Heath's nightshirt. "See if he won't change his mind about punishing you."

Heath reached out and latched onto his arm. "Wait, Nick. Don't."

"What do you mean, 'Don't'?! In case you don't know, you're in a for licking, boy, and that ain't gonna tickle!"

"It's okay though. I know I deserve it."

"No, you don't!" Nick punctuated the air with a leather-gloved first. "That wasn't some selfish jaunt you were on! You thought Hannah was hurt or dying! If that's not a reason to take off the way you did, well, I don't know what is!"

Heath shook his head, his blue eyes pleading. "But it isn't. Your parents –"

"Just a minute, boy. That's _our_ parents downstairs, not just mine!"

"All right, Nick. But _our_ parents have been telling me since the day I got here to come to them with my problems, and I haven't been listening. I haven't been obeying. The other times I took off it was for small stuff, but this was the biggest yet, or at least I thought it was at the time."

"So?!"

"So I was wrong to handle this on my own. I was wrong to leave without saying where I was going. I deserve to be in trouble."

"But Heath—"

"No, Nick. Father told me he's gettin' awful tired of trying to convince me I'm his son just like you and Jarrod and Gene. I reckon he's gonna make sure after tonight that I believe it." Heath thought of the pain due him and shrugged. "And I reckon I just might once he's done."

"But why?" Nick raked a hand through his sweaty hair. "Just 'cause we've all been tanned by Father before and you haven't?"

"Yeah, that's exactly why."

"But that doesn't make any sense, Heath!"

"It does to me, Nick."

"And to me," Jarrod said after he'd knocked once then entered. His blue eyes met Heath's with understanding before turning to the other sibling in the room. "Let's go, Nick. Father's coming."

"But—"

"Nick. Let's go."

Never before had Nick felt so conflicted. He wanted Heath to side with him, so they could work together to plead their case to Father, and he wanted Jarrod right there as well, applying whatever arguments he'd learned in law school to back them up to the hilt. Neither brother was doing what he wanted, though; they were acting like this was all for the best.

_Could it be? _

_What was Nick supposed to do?_

As Tom Barkley's heavy tread made its way ever closer, and Heath simply raised his chin bravely, his unwavering gaze filled with the usual stubborn determination, Nick reluctantly allowed Jarrod to pull him away. Still, he couldn't go without letting his kid brother know he would be nearby if needed.

"You call out if Father hits too hard, all right? We'll be right across the hall."

Immediately, Heath was on his feet. "No, Nick, please! I just-I won't be able to-I don't think I can hold—"

Jarrod held up a hand to reassure his stammering younger brother. "It's okay, Heath. We understand and we'll go for a long walk outside, maybe even a night ride. We won't hear a thing."

"Jarrod—"

"I said let's go, Nick. This is between Father and Brother Heath."

Nick tried to dig in his heels, but Jarrod's grip was deceptively strong. In less than fifty seconds, he found himself propelled out of Heath's room, down the back stairs, through the kitchen and past the back garden straight into the corral. There, he whirled on his older brother and swung at him, demanding to know why Jarrod had just dragged them all the way out here when they could just as easily have waited out the worst in Nick's bedroom. Jarrod's heated explanation was sound, however, and though it took a moment for his own anger to clear, once it did, Nick couldn't argue. He remembered what it was like to be fifteen and facing a whipping from Father, to know that tears would likely come and to dread the prospect of his cries being overheard. Of course, knowing a thing and respecting it when his heart said otherwise, well, that was something else entirely.

And so Nicholas J. Barkley paced.

Never one to remain quiet or composed even at the best of times, Nick fervently wished that Heath had remembered to shut his bedroom window. Because he hadn't, Nick had no choice but to keep muttering to himself and moving, his long legs covering the length of the corral in less than twenty strides over and over again while he tried not to listen to the echo of paternal discipline in action – but heard it all anyway. More than once Jarrod tried to convince him to take that night ride mentioned previously, but Nick refused. He couldn't walk away when his younger brother was suffering like this. Hell, he'd just finished convincing the boy to come to him the next time he had a problem or needed help. What would Heath think if he called out in desperation, and Nick never came, never even heard him?

By the gate, Jarrod steeled himself for the confrontation he knew was coming because the speed at which Nick was pacing was picking up. Any minute now, he was going to smack his fist inside his palm then take off for the house to protect Heath, a move that, on the one hand, was welcome given the stress and strife in their relationship so far, but on the other hand, would likely result in Nick himself getting bent over his bed for a dose of Father's right arm. Nick was twenty-one now, but he wasn't so old that such disciplinary methods were wholly out of the question for him. Rare, yes, but definitely not unheard of. Father had proven that just last month inside the north end line shack, even if the only family members who knew about it were Father, Nick and Jarrod himself.

Observing his younger brother now with real trepidation, Jarrod tensed his muscles in preparation for the explosion. He counted down from ten, suspecting he wouldn't have to wait much longer at this point, and by five, he was right. As Nick found he couldn't take it anymore and charged for the mansion, Jarrod raced into action and pulled his sibling down from the fence before he could vault over the top.

"Oh no you don't, Brother Nick. You're staying right here with me 'til it's over."

_"Get out of my way, Jarrod."_

"No."

Nick swung his fist and connected with Jarrod's face, but just as quickly, he found himself doubled-over and clutching an aching gut. He stumbled back and shot his older brother a dark look, fighting to take in oxygen.

"Father can't whip him that long," he wheezed. "He'll kill him!"

"Heath isn't getting whipped, Nicholas. He's—"

"What do you mean he isn't getting whipped?" Nick gesticulated weakly toward the house. "Don't you hear that? Heath doesn't bawl for nothing you know!"

"I know that, Nick, but for the love of heaven, listen a minute, would you? Just listen!" As the brothers glared at one another but nonetheless held their breaths and did as Jarrod demanded, the older of the two quizzed the younger. "Now does that sound like a belt in action to you?

Nick listened a moment longer then grudgingly straightened up. "No," he admitted. "It sounds like Father's hand."

Jarrod touched his tender jaw and winced. "Right, his hand just like you and I and Gene all received the first time we went over Father's knee. Heath isn't getting whipped like he's fifteen. He's getting spanked like he's eight. You feel better about it now?"

Nick scowled at the corral fence as he leaned against it. "Well, if Heath's gettin' spanked, I guess it's okay that he's getting it this long, but I still don't like it. Father better stop soon."

Jarrod went over and clapped him on the shoulder. "He will, Nick. Have faith."

Nick couldn't truly say whose faith it was – his own or Jarrod's – that brought an end to Heath's misery, but shortly after Jarrod's declaration, the smacking sounds stopped for good. Nick waited several seconds to see if they were going to start up again, but when they didn't resume, he climbed onto the bottom rail, fully intent on getting over the fence this time.

"It's finished," he said. "I'm going up there."

Once again, Jarrod pulled him back down. "No, Nick. Leave them be for now."

"What for? Heath's upset! _He needs comforting!"_

"Exactly and who gave you that comfort the first time Father spanked your behind when you were six? Was it me? Was it Mother?"

"No." Nick signed as he realized what Jarrod was getting at. "It was Father. He held me on his lap and hugged me until I settled down."

"And then?"

"And then we talked until I fell asleep. The next morning ... well, the next morning it seemed like we were closer than we'd ever been before." A restless Nick looked over at Jarrod with cautious hope. "You think that's Father's plan with Heath?"

Jarrod gave him a reassuring wink. "I have no doubt that it is, Brother Nick. So far what he's doing with Heath is exactly what he's done with me, you and Gene before him, which means you and I aren't needed here and we haven't been for the last ten minutes." As Nick allowed the tension to slowly dissipate from his spine, Jarrod guided him firmly toward the gate. "You know, when Mother wired me that Heath was missing, I dropped everything to get here as fast I could, including the company of a very attractive young lady. Are you up for a discreet visit to town with your lawyer brother?"

Nick gazed up at Heath's open window one last time then turned to Jarrod with a slow-building grin.

"Only if you're buying, Pappy ... and maybe even if you're not!"


End file.
